The Last Voice

They closed my mother's casket to be buried next to Dad today. The crowd that came to honor her began to walk away. Nothing left but tiny breeze a cold and lonely final stare, and I her dear beloved son just standing there, just standing there. I'm left with only shadows and whispers in my mind, as though it never happened a stage of pantomimes. A faded mist uncaptured has evaporated all too quick, like fruit attacked by fire blight and I the striving stick. Thought to be a stone at last is now a simple ball of clay, the meaning of my life now washed away. Washed away. What now I sigh with fading eyes I search for new beginnings, but deep inside the voice will chide Thus begins the ending. Thus begins the ending.